


Sometime Around Midnight

by Ashkenna



Category: All Time Low
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Beware, But m not a great writer so..., If i do say so my self, Kinda bitter, M/M, Or sex, Songfic, but its cool, there is smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-23
Updated: 2015-07-23
Packaged: 2018-04-10 18:48:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4403138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashkenna/pseuds/Ashkenna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>As she walks out the door</em><br/>
<em> Your blood boiling, your stomach in ropes</em><br/>
<em> And then your friends say "What is it? You look like you've seen a ghost."</em></p><p>His stomach ties itself in knots watching the door swing behind the pair. He knows all of the blood has drained from his face, that his hands are shaking, and oh god he might just puke all over the poor mahogany bar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometime Around Midnight

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo! Its one of my friends birthday and it took like forever to write this, so I hope it's enjoyable for her. (:
> 
> There are typos, I'm not a professional.
> 
> ALSO: this song is very obviously written about a girl. This fanfiction is very obviously written about two guys, bear with me here.
> 
> AND: if you would like to listen to the song, here's the URL, https://youtu.be/EWPyqmh5z3o

**_"Sometime Around Midnight"_ **

_And it starts_  
_Sometime around midnight_  
_Or at least that's when you lose yourself_  
_For a minute or two_

It was one of _those_ places, you know, where the people of higher class got on their best outfit and flaunted their money in forms of jewels and hair pins and expensive wine. Jack grimaced just looking at everyone, only able to remind himself how much he wasn't wealthy, or happy.

 _As you stand_  
_Under the bar lights_  
_And the band plays some song about forgetting yourself for a while_

Jack himself was leaned against the counter of the bar, a glass of whiskey held loosely in his hand, both elbows on the bar behind him. Unfortunately, you were required to wear a tux, otherwise, Jack's fancy outfit would have been a shirt and ripped jeans.

There was the buzz of chatter, and a weird sophisticated clicking of glasses (some snazzy mellow band in the back ground) and it was all very underwhelming. The reason he stood here was because Rian, his (only) friend was invited and decided Jack needed to get out. Jack was Rian's plus one.

 _And the piano's this melancholy soundtrack to her smile_  
_And that white dress she's wearing, you haven't seen her_  
_For a while_

Jack doesn't even know who he's talking to anymore, just another nameless face and faceless name and Jack thinks he might just be on his way to getting properly smashed and he's pretty sure he could care less. He'd be more concerned about everything if Rian's career was depending on it; luckily, he's not endangered of being fired at all.

Their are eyes on him, making goosebumps rise on his arms, still inside the jacket, even though he's warm.

He pauses in conversation to look up meeting familiar eyes, one's that once burned with such intensity, one's that used to look at Jack like he made the world.

Eyes that, Jack knows--even though the man is on the other side of the room--, are a brown, in every shade, knows that he fell in love with those eyes from the start.

It makes Jack cold, this burning coldness that seeps into those bones, to see the smile around those eyes.

He feels bitter knowing he was the only one to walk out of their relationship unhappy and continue to be quite a few years later. ("I really think it's time to move on Jack" "What do you mean? I have" sighs "Sure, Jack, Sure")

 _But you know_  
_That she's watching_  
_She's laughing, she's turning_  
_She's holding her tonic like a cross_

It's hard not to notice him, because people are just so naturally attracted to him that when they first met, Jack was jealous of that. He was jealous that this man--Alex, his name is Alex--could just lure in a room full of people because of his amazing charisma. And then.

Then Jack was jealous that all these people could demand Alex's attention and get away with it, because if Jack did it, he'd be labeled childish. (Even more so than he already was.) Jack was jealous because he couldn't pull Alex to him like Alex pulled Jack.

It _wasn't fair_ \--

It wasn't fair that Alex was allowed to literally look brilliant in a white suit--and God, his hair, who decided it would be appropriate to have blue hair at a classy party--sufficiently covering most of his tattoos. Some were always left out in the open. (Their was a time Jack could lay his hands on that skin, warm to the touch, and trace the ink with his fingertips, endlessly. Jack never got bored with his fascination of Alex, but he got bored of the way it left his eyes sunken in after two days alone, for good. For the rest of his life. Alone.)

Jack turns around to face the bar, not sure if he could continue watching Alex flirt his way through a crowd, not without crying anyway.

He swallows the rest of the golden whiskey and silently asks for another, aware that Alex's eyes were on him, could feel it with the way his skin tingled, feeling like someone just lightly scratched their nails down his back. The bartender fills him half a glass, no question asked, because a drunken man was more or less a waste of his time. Jack couldn't say he blamed the guy.

Jack risks another glance towards Alex, only to see him laugh, white jacket laying across his arm to reveal a vest, front white, back black. Just like his eyes that were too far away to see, hos laugh was too far away to hear. But even as he turned back around, he was thinking of what he knew it sounded like, of the way it got low and breathy during intimate moments.

He looked at him again, noticing his kind smile and everything Jack had for just two years. Jack's mouth twitched into a small frown. Alex looked up, meeting his eyes with Jack's, and Jack turned away.

It wasn't fair.

 _The room suddenly spinning, she walks up and asks how you are_  
_So you can smell her perfume_  
_You can see her lying naked in your arms_

Rain comes up next to him, nudges him with his shoulder, asks, "how are you doing?"

Jack smiles at him, roughly, "I'm doing good." He turns back around, stance more open, to talk with Rian as he moves to stand in from of him.

Talking with Rian relaxes him a little, easy to not focus on the man across the room.

Until Rian slaps on the shoulder, winking at Jack, "I'm going to go talk to Cassadee now. Just wanted to check on you."

"Yeah I'm not a child, Rian," Jack replies. Rian just laughs and walks away.

Jack swallows more of what's in his his glass, wondering if he should be the responsible guy and ask for water.

He decides not.

He looks up to see the crowd of people parting like the red sea, and in this metaphor, Alex would be Moses. He's wearing enough white.

(Jack felt sick looking at him, nauseous and dizzy, and before he realized, Alex was right in front of him.)

"Jack! It's nice to see you. How have you been?" (He was smiling, smiling, and Jack wanted to bawl like a baby in the face of that--that perfection.)

"I've been good." ( ~~I'm awful, I hate you, and even more than that I hate me for still loving you.~~ ) "You?"

"Ah, you know. It's the same as usual." ( ~~The same as usual used to mean content, because they would lay in bed for hours, Alex curled up into Jack's chest, his fingertips drawing invisible patterns. This was usually after sex, because Jack was undeniably a cuddler. Alex tended to indulge him. Now, the usual meant depressed and a-okay~~.)

"Oh? That's nice." Jack says anyway. (Stay. Leave. Don't go, don't leave me alone. _Stopbreakingmyheart_.)

Alex laughs light heartedly, and Jack doesn't think he can take the onslaught of memories he gets looking at him, glancing away.

 _And so there's a change_  
_In your emotions_  
_And all of these memories come rushing like feral waves to your mind_

They were together, before Jack dropped out of college. Alex was smart and charismatic, although it took a few conversations to get him out of his shell. They were both majoring in music, and Jack hadn't even known Alex existed until after winter break. When they finally met it was because mutual friend introduced them both, and Jack immediately disliked him.

Alex was better at everything, at talking--even if he was bashful--at playing guitar, at everything Jack just wanted in his life.

Slowly it became less about 'Alex can play this better' and more about 'Do you think Alex would play this for me?'. Eventually it just became 'I think I'd really appreciate having Alex sing me to sleep at night. That'd be really chill.'

And they hung out, at the apartment Jack owned a few blocks down from the university and what they spent their time doing always varied.

It could be movies one night and homework the next--which that, really, was a big deal, that Jack could sit and do something so boring but it made him happy because Alex was next to him.

Then one day it just changed, without any warning Jack and Alex were just together all the time holding hands and leaving wet smooches on each other's cheek. Jack didn't thunk much of it until he realized he couldn't imagine his life without Alex, without these small little things that just made him warm and comfortable.

(Wasn't that ironic, considering how he lives now, cold and colder and freezing and there aren't any touches ever.)

They didn't talk about the kissing--well, when it got to that--either. Thinking about it now, it was probably the reason they split, because they never talked, not about what they were or what they wanted to be.

 _Of the curl of your bodies, like two perfect circles entwined_  
_And you feel hopeless, and homeless, and lost in the haze of the wine_

Looking at Alex now...

He's not even sure he wants to remember the nights where they just laid together, tangled in Jack's bedsheets, with the sheets equally tangled in their limbs. (One morning Alex tried to stand, to gather his clothes, but ended up falling back into the bed because his foot was caught in the sheet. Jack laughed for what felt like hours. "See, even my bed doesn't want you to leave," he had said and Alex only smiled and kissed him on the mouth, gentle.)

(He remembers Alex under him, breaths shallow because Jack was on him everywhere, his fingers in him, and his mouth on him, and his spare hand on his chest, rubbing at the sensitive spots on his ribcage. Alex had openly sobbed when he came, and once he caught his breath, told Jack that was going to happen a lot more. Jack had only laughed, kissing his cheek.)

"Anyway! It was nice to talk to you," Alex smiles, and walks away, and Jack watches him leave feeling hopeless.

 _Then she leaves_  
_With someone you don't know_  
_But she makes sure you saw her, she looks right at you and bolts_

Jack watches him, watches him sway back to the other side of the room, occasionally stopping to talk to someone (and it wasn't fair because Jack was the one who brought him out of his shell---how could he continue to be so bubbly without him?).

Jack sees another guy walk up to him (muscles, muscles everywhere Jesus Christ) and tap him on the shoulder. He looks kinda apologetic at first, talking to Alex but then Alex says something to make him smile--and wow isn't that a surprise--before throwing his thumb over his shoulder to point at the entrance.

And Jack is bristling, can feel his shoulders tense up as Alex nods and follows him out the door and he just--

Alex glances at Jack one last time, throwing a smile and wave over his shoulder.

Jack thinks he might be sick.

 _As she walks out the door_  
_Your blood boiling, your stomach in ropes_  
_And then your friends say "What is it? You look like you've seen a ghost."_

His stomach ties itself in knots watching the door swing behind the pair. He knows all of the blood has drained from his face, that his hands are shaking, and oh god he might just puke all over the poor mahogany bar.

"Hey, man, are you alright?" Rian says, popping up out if no where.  "You don't look to good."

"Yeah, man, you look like you've seen a ghost," some stranger pipes in. The stranger also laughs and turns back to his own conversation.

Jack doesn't reply, but instead turns around to request the rest of the bottle of whiskey.

He doesn't count how many glasses he's drank, only knowing that he payed and left when he finished the rest of the bottle.

 _Then you walk_  
_Under the streetlights_  
_And you're too drunk to notice that everyone is staring at you_  
_You just don't care what you look like_  
_The world is falling around you_

The night air is calming, against his heated skin, but it does nothing for the tsunami in his head, all rushing memories of Alex, and Jack, and Jack and Alex, and of the stupid goddamn fight that should have never happened in the first place.

Because watching Alex walk away with someone else, ties his tongue, and his stomach gurgles in distress--oh wait.

That actually might the alcohol. Jack grabs the pole of a light post and swings himself around to puke in the grass next to the sidewalk.

He stands up straight, wiping his mouth, vaguely aware that his eyes are burning and he's probably crying.

Jack thinks he might be dying. He's not sure if he can _breathe_ \--

 _You just have to see her_  
_You just have to see her_  
_You just have to see her_  
_You just have to see her_

His chest hurts and he knows he's close to his house, maybe a yard or two, but he's not sure if he can because he can't breathe, and _holy fuck_ his chest _hurts_ \--

_You just have to see her_

" _Holy shit, Jack_ ," and then there were hands on him holding his shoulders, gripping so tight that Jack felt like he was planning pulled down. "I need you to breathe okay? Come on, breathe with me, just like this," Jack heard a sharp intake of breath and he tried to copy it. "You're doing a great job, c'mon just a few more times."

Jack didn't know who was holding onto his shoulders or breathing so loudly that Jack could hear it over the ringing if his ears, but he appreciated it.

When he was finally calmed down enough, the grip on his shoulders relaxed, and e opened his eyes, noticing the black spots in his vision.

And then he noticed the person in front of him--

"Wait, Alex?" It really wasn't Jack's fault if he sounded so surprised, or if he was probably more sober than ever realizing who it was that stopped--

"Hi, Jack," He smiled, a little guilty. (A part of him wanted to tell him go the fuck away and the other wanted to say oh god, please stay. So he didn't say either.)

"What." Was really the only intelligent thing he could say because this shouldn't be so casual--Jack literally spent the whole night going through terrible emotional shit that, just, ugh. (If Alex is here to break his heart again he can just leave because it never got fixed in the first place.) "What happened to the other guy?"

"What other guy?"

Is he _joking_? "The guy you left with?" (If Jack sounded bitter and rude it was nobody's business.)

"Ohh, you mean Zack? I um. I had him drop me off here."

"Oh."

Jack's stomach started to bubble in disgust again, and he knew he was going to make this even more awkward by possibly puking on Alex's shoes.

"I think I'm gon--"

(Remember that time Jack thought he was gonna vomit on Alex's shoes? He totally just did.)

(Alex slips away from him, not saying anything, only taking off his shoes. Jack should apologize but he can't open his mouth for fear of being sick again, so he stays hunched and holding onto his stomach. He silently watches Alex walk up to his porch and grab the spare key from the mail box above the doorbell (he probably should have moved it somewhere else, is what he briefly thinks). This is how Jack ends up in his bathroom hanging over the toilet with Alex running his hands through his hair, and being comforting in general.)

"I'm going to be right back," Alex tells him, barely heard over Jack's fetching, and slips out of the bathroom.

Jack's crying before Alex can even slip back into the bathroom, a bottle of water and a wet rag in his hand. Alex puts the eater bottle on the sink before getting on his knees next to Jack, wiping the rag against his brow. (It's wonderfully cool against his skin, just like the night air was moments ago.)

"Hey, hey, shh," Alex says, voice unbelievably gentle, "it's okay to feel terrible, just let it out." (This is what Jack missed about Alex, disliking patience because sometimes Jack feels to small but Alex was always there for him.)

(Even if Jack is actually feeling terrible because he can't ever do anything right (like seriously, what kind of guy ends up sick over a toilet with their ex taking care of them) instead of just feeling gross and hungover way too soon, it doesn't matter. He's pretty sure either way Alex's words would soothe him.)

Maybe twenty minutes later--although it feels like hours--Jack decides that he's not sick anymore, and Alex just hands him the water bottle.

He wants to laugh at how familiar this is, and even still drinks the whole bottle in hopes of impressing Alex (Like every other time).

Alex only smiles at him and gently pulls him up, letting Jack lean against his side as he brushes his teeth.

Alex leads him to his room, laying Jack down and then pulling the blanket over Jack, tucking him in (but not before helping him strip, helping him into flannel pajama bottoms). Jack pulls up the blanket, feeling insecure as a thought occurs to him and he asks, "what are you doing here?"

The lights are off in Jack's room, the only light coming from the streetlights outside his window and the small night light plugged in on the opposite side of the room. Alex sat down on the edge of the bed, faced away from Jack. The blue glow from the night light enveloped Alex's right side, and he sighed.

Jack watched, only able to read his body language (considering Alex was turned away from him) and Alex just looked... tired.

"I wanted to apologize, for what I did. I know I'm three years too late, but seeing you tonight made me realize you look as shitty as I feel." There was a small pause. "I spent a lot of my time wasting away and doing nothing and I realize I would have been a lot happier if I were wasting time with you. I don't think I really deserve to be forgiven for blaming shit on you and then tearing us apart, but I want you to know that I miss you."

Silence.

Jack knows his voice would waver and break if he spoke, so instead and grabbed Alex and pulled him down by his shoulders onto the bed.

Alex moved around, curling up into Jack's chest.

Jack fell asleep smiling.

-|-

Jack woke up tangled in Alex's limbs and with a face full of blue hair. For a single moment Jack just watched, and felt Howe arm it was, with someone else here with him.

Jack went to shift out from under Alex, his head only giving off a dull wave of pain, until Alex's limbs tightened around him pulling him closer. "Don' g-- _oh_."

Heat spread from Jack's neck to his cheeks and there was a probability he was very turned on tight now.

Alex snuggled closer to Jack, using both of his legs to pull Jack's leg closer, rocking up into it. (It caught Jack off guard, Alex's casual way of getting off. It might have been because it was seven and the morning, and Alex wasn't ever awake until after caffeine.)

Jack went to kiss Alex, but their noses and teeth bumped together uncomfortably. Luckily Alex was their to fix this problem, raising one of his hands to hold Jack's face, and slanted their lips together perfectly.

Jack used the hand that wasn't currently trapped under the other to trail down Alex's side, and to the front of his pants to palm his erection.

Alex opened his mouth into their kiss, releasing a long sigh, and Jack took this chance to bite his lower lip, while focusing on moving his hand over Alex's dick.

Alex turned his head away, and Jack moved his mouth to his jaw, just nibbling. His fingers worked on popping open the button on Alex's skinny jeans. By the time Jack's hand is actually down Alex's pants, Alex his making little breathy noises in his ear and thrusting his hips up, to find further contact.

He comes with a low moan, and Jack has to wipe his hand off on the sheets, noise wrinkled in disgust. No matter how many times he's seen it, sperm is still pretty gross.

Then Alex is tugging on Jack's shirt, bringing him down from his sitting position to press their mouths together. "My turn," and really it should be a sin for Alex to talk after anything sex related because god damn.

Alex pulls his shirt over his head, and then kicks off his pants before he's kissing Jack's bare chest. He moves up to Jack's neck and scrapes his teeth against the sensitive skin there while giving Jack's pick the same attention he received.

All too soon he's pulling away--both of them are gasping for air--and manages to ask Jack where he puts his lube in a broken sentence.

"Top draw of the dresser," Jack says and Alex is moving off the bed and getting up to grab it--Jack feels cold, without the warm body next to him.

The bed dips and then there's the snap of a lid, but Jack isn't getting anything. He sits up, only to be surprised by the sight of Alex on his knees (boxers gone), his hand working behind him.

"Oh my God." Is all Jack can say because Alex is sitting in front of him, fingering himself, okay.

Alex laughs, cutting himself off with a small moan, and thrusts back against his fingers. His hair is already starting to stick to his temples from the sweat, so Jack moves forward to push it all back away from his face.

Alex leans into the touch and Jack can only think about how much he lives this man, sitting in front of him. He smiles, unconsciously, and Alex returns it with one of the most content smiles he's ever seen on his face.

"Okay," Alex breathes, tossing a condom packet at Jack. "I'm ready." (Jack has never taken off his pants so fast before.)

That's how Jack ends up with Alex under him, sinking into him, and bursting with warmness.

As he thrusts into Alex--slow and intimate--he peppers his mouth, jaw, and neck with small kisses and Alex is smiling up at him while at the same time moaning and Jack doesn't think he can handle it at all--

Jack comes a shout, and Alex comes again with a whimper.

Jack gently pulls out before taking the condom off and knotting it, getting up to throw it in his bathrooms trashcan.

When he's done, he wets one of the softer rags with warn water to clean of Alex with. The other smiles gratefully, looking sleepy, and Jack can't really blame him.

Jack lays down, wrapping his arms around Alex to hold him close. Alex sighs happily, and says, "I missed you," a small pause "and I love you."

Jack's face hurts from grinning so hard.

_You know that she'll break you in two_

"I love you too."

**Author's Note:**

> There was genitalia in this story and you cannot convince me other wise.


End file.
